Olivia: Alright, Jackson, here’s a thought: What if the best thing you can do for your kids is to be a little bit selfish? To focus on a parenting goal that’s all about your future happiness. Jackson: Whoa, okay. That sounds fundamentally wrong. Like, against the first rule of the parenting club. I’m pretty sure the secret handshake involves sleep deprivation and putting someone else’s needs first for 18 years straight. Olivia: It sounds wrong, right? But that’s the provocative idea we’re exploring today. It’s this subtle but powerful reframing of the entire parenting enterprise. Jackson: Okay, that's a bold start. I'm intrigued. What's the source of this parental heresy? Olivia: It comes from the book 'Parenting: Getting It Right' by Andy and Sandra Stanley. And what's fascinating is that the Stanleys aren't psychologists or academic researchers. They're the founders of North Point Ministries, one of the largest church organizations in the US. They wrote this after raising three of their own kids and fostering others, drawing from decades of pastoral counseling. So this isn't a book of studies; it's a book of stories and hard-won wisdom. Jackson: Got it. So it’s more about lived experience than lab experiments. That's a perspective you don't always get. It also explains why the reception has been so interesting—highly rated by many readers who love the practical wisdom, but also criticized by some for being faith-based rather than research-driven. Olivia: Exactly. They’re not trying to be scientists. They’re trying to be guides who’ve walked the path. And their central, "selfish" idea is what they call their "North Star."

Olivia: The Stanleys argue that before you do anything else—before you pick a school, a discipline style, or a set of rules—you have to define your win. You have to know what you're aiming for. And their North Star, the goal that guided everything for them, was this: "To raise kids who enjoy being with us and with each other even when they no longer have to be." Jackson: Huh. When you put it like that, it doesn't sound so selfish. It sounds… relational. But is that really the main goal? What about raising kids who are kind, successful, responsible? Aren't those the big-ticket items? Olivia: That’s the brilliant part. The Stanleys’ argument is that a strong, loving relationship is the soil from which all those other things grow. You can't force a teenager to be responsible if they've already tuned you out. Influence is everything, and influence only survives in a healthy relationship. Their mantra is "Direction determines destination." If your direction is always toward relationship, your destination will be a family that actually functions. Jackson: That makes sense. You can't steer a car you're not in. If you've been kicked out of their life emotionally, you have no say in where they're going. Olivia: Precisely. They tell this great story about setting this goal. They were on a six-hour road trip to Hilton Head, their first son Andrew was just an infant in the back. Sandra’s family is incredibly close-knit, and Andy realized he wanted that for his own family. It wasn't just going to happen by accident. So they spent that car ride defining their "it," their win. And that single sentence became the filter for every decision afterward. Jackson: I love the idea of a filter. It simplifies things. But what happens when that filter gets tested? I mean, real life is messy. What about when your kid does something that makes you want to prioritize anything but the relationship? Olivia: Oh, they have the perfect story for that. It's called "The Hole in the Wall." Their son Garrett was a passionate, extroverted middle schooler, and he and Andy would often clash. One night, they got into a heated argument. Andy refused to argue back—he says, "Arguments are for peers. You’re the parent"—but he stood his ground on a decision. Garrett got so frustrated he went to his room and punched a hole clean through the drywall. Jackson: Oh boy. I can feel the tension from here. My first instinct would be to ground him until he’s 30 and make him spackle the wall with a toothbrush. Olivia: Right? That’s the compliance-first reaction. But Andy’s North Star was the relationship. A little while later, Garrett came to him, holding out his hand, which was bruised and busted from punching the wall. He apologized and offered to pay for the repair. And in that moment, Andy knew they’d won. The relationship was still intact. Garrett still came to his dad when he was hurt. Andy says he decided to leave the hole in the wall for years as a reminder: his job wasn't to have a perfectly behaved kid or a perfect wall; it was to be the person his son came to with a busted hand. Jackson: Wow. That’s powerful. It reframes the whole point of discipline. The goal isn't a pristine wall; it's a kid who trusts you enough to show you his wounds. So, obedience is just a means to an end, and the end is connection. Olivia: Exactly. Obedience is a tool, not the trophy. And that realization forces you to parent completely differently. It means you have to constantly adapt your tools as the kid changes.

Jackson: Okay, so you have this North Star. But a relationship with a 4-year-old is totally different from a 14-year-old. How do you actually navigate that? The tools for a toddler would get you laughed out of the room by a teenager. Olivia: This is my favorite part of the book because it’s so practical. The Stanleys lay out four distinct stages of parenting, and they argue that parents must change their role in each stage. The kids will transition automatically; it’s the parents who get stuck. Jackson: It's like a video game. You're the all-powerful final boss in the early levels, but by the teen years, you're more like the NPC who gives side quests and advice. Olivia: That's a perfect analogy! Stage One, from ages 0 to 5, is the Discipline Years. Here, you are the director. Your word is law. The goal is to teach cause and effect. They tell this hilarious story about being at a seafood restaurant with friends whose two-year-old daughter, Hannah, ate her two allotted hush puppies and then defiantly reached for a third, staring her dad down. Jackson: The hush puppy standoff. A classic toddler power move. Olivia: A total power move. And the dad didn't negotiate. He didn't explain. He just swiftly picked her up, took her out, and disciplined her. The message was simple: action, immediate consequence. In this stage, you’re teaching them that the world has firm boundaries, mainly for their own safety. Jackson: I can see that. But I have heard some criticism that the book is a bit vague on how to discipline in this stage. It talks about consistency but doesn't give a lot of specific techniques, which can leave parents wondering. Olivia: That’s a fair point. The Stanleys focus less on specific methods and more on a framework. They adopted what they call the "Three Ds" as their non-negotiables: Disobedience, Dishonesty, and Disrespect. They didn't sweat the small stuff, but if a behavior fell into one of those three categories, it was always addressed. The "how" was less important than the "what" and the "why." Jackson: Okay, that clarifies it. So, after the Discipline Years, what's Stage Two? Olivia: Stage Two, from 5 to 12, is the Training Years. Here, you shift from Director to Trainer. You start explaining the "why" behind the rules. You’re not just demanding obedience; you’re building habits. This is where you teach them about money with "give, save, spend" jars, or about responsibility by having them do chores. The goal is to turn external rules into internal understanding. Jackson: So the training wheels are still on, but you're explaining the physics of how a bike works. Olivia: Exactly. But then comes the big, scary transition. Stage Three, from 12 to 18, is the Coaching Years. And this is where most parents fail to adapt. You have to move from the field to the sidelines. Your job is no longer to make the plays, but to offer strategy and support. Jackson: The dreaded teenage years. I'm picturing chaos. Olivia: And you'd be right! Sandra tells this story about getting ready for a home inspection to become foster parents, and their son Garrett suddenly yells from upstairs, "MOM, HAS ANYONE SEEN MY MACHETE?!" Jackson: His… machete? As in, the giant jungle knife? That’s not something you want a home inspector to trip over. Olivia: You can imagine her panic! But that’s the coaching years. They have their own lives, their own interests, their own… machetes from mission trips. You can't control it all. The Stanleys say in this stage, you have to prioritize connecting over correcting. You listen more than you talk. You let them fail. Their mantra is "Don't bail, let 'em fail." Because a C on a test they didn't study for is a far cheaper lesson than getting fired from a job at 25. Jackson: That’s so hard to do, to watch them stumble when you could easily fix it. But it makes sense. The coach doesn't run onto the field to catch the ball for the player. And the final stage? Olivia: Stage Four, 18 and beyond, is the Friendship Years. If you’ve done the work in the first three stages, this is the payoff. You’ve raised an independent adult who now chooses to be in a relationship with you. You’re no longer their boss or their coach; you’re their friend and trusted advisor. Jackson: The North Star. The goal you were aiming for all along. It’s a beautiful framework, but it all hinges on using the right tools to build that relationship day in and day out.

Olivia: And that's where the toolkit comes in. Because no matter the stage, the tools you use to build that relationship are surprisingly consistent. And the most powerful, and dangerous, tool is your words. Jackson: I think every parent has had that moment where a throwaway comment lands like a bomb, or something you thought was a joke clearly wasn't. Olivia: The Stanleys are ruthless about this. They point out that words are not created equal. Research suggests it can take anywhere from five to nine positive comments to undo the damage of a single negative one. And the source of the words determines their weight. A criticism from a parent, especially a father, can weigh ten times more than from anyone else. Jackson: That’s a heavy responsibility. It means "I was just kidding" is the worst excuse in the book. The intent is irrelevant if the impact is damage. Olivia: Intent is completely irrelevant. That’s their third rule of words. And this applies to discipline, too. Their approach to consequences is fascinating. It’s not about punishment; it’s about restoration. Jackson: What’s the difference? Olivia: Punishment is about making the child suffer for what they did. Restoration is about making the child repair the relationship they broke. They tell this incredible story. Their two sons, eight and ten, were horribly disrespectful to their babysitter, Pam. The next morning, Sandra didn't just ground them. Jackson: Let me guess. She made them write an apology letter? Olivia: Oh, it was so much more. She woke them up early, had them write the letters, then made them get dressed in nice clothes, pool their own money, and drove them to the store to buy Pam a bouquet of flowers. Then, she drove them to Pam's office and made them walk in, in front of all of her colleagues, and deliver the flowers and apologize to her face. Jackson: Wow. That is next-level. That’s not a punishment; that’s a full-blown character-building crucible. I can feel the mortification. Olivia: The boys said they would have preferred any other punishment on earth! But they never, ever disrespected a babysitter again. The consequence was designed to restore honor to the person they had dishonored. It taught empathy, not just fear. Jackson: So 'Sorry' is not a complete sentence. That's a game-changer. It has to be followed by an action that makes things right. What about when the parent is the one who messes up, though? What about yelling? Olivia: They have a very simple, very hard rule: Yell only in case of emergency. A raised voice is a fire alarm. It’s meant to communicate danger—"Get out of the street!"—not anger. If you use the fire alarm every time you’re annoyed that they left their shoes in the hallway, it loses all its power. Children just learn to fear you, not the actual danger. Jackson: And you trade influence for compliance. They might do what you say, but they’re pulling away from you emotionally with every shout. Olivia: Exactly. And if you do mess up, if you do yell out of anger, the apology needs to be immediate and clean. No "I'm sorry I yelled, but you were being so frustrating." Just, "I'm sorry I raised my voice. I was wrong to do that." Jackson: It all comes back to the North Star, doesn't it? Every tool, every rule, every stage is designed to protect that long-term relationship. It’s about playing the long game.

Olivia: That’s the whole book in a nutshell. It’s a complete paradigm shift away from the short-term tactics of behavior management and toward the long-term strategy of relationship building. Jackson: So, when you boil it all down, the book is arguing that most parents are playing the wrong game. We're focused on winning the daily battles over homework and chores, but the Stanleys are saying the only game worth winning is the one that ends with your adult kids actually wanting to call you, wanting to come over for dinner, wanting to be your friend. Olivia: Exactly. And the most practical takeaway for anyone listening is to ask that one question before you react to anything your kid does: "Will my response move us closer to, or further from, our North Star?" It reframes everything. It’s not about being a perfect parent, but about being a parent with the right purpose. Jackson: I love that. It’s not about having all the answers, but about having the right question. We'd love to hear what your "it" is. What's the one thing you're aiming for as a parent? Find us on our socials and let us know. It’s a conversation worth having. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.